


Cathedral of Stars

by Ruis



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Learning to Fly, Magic Related to the Night and Stars, Marriage causes spouses to sprout wings, Music-Based Magic, Shapeshifting, Space Exploration, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruis/pseuds/Ruis
Summary: Of all the emotions she had expected to experience at her own wedding, the one she could not have predicted at all, neither with the cards she had begun to suspect were more entertainment than serious prediction nor with what her bride usually called ‘common sense’, nor even with stochastic simulations on the station’s largest computing cluster – that one, not for the first time, had proven particularly useless in matters of the heart – was boredom.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Return to the Iron Triangle - January 2020





	Cathedral of Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).



The hymns were sung, the holy vows spoken, and for just one short moment the cathedral was eerily soundless save for Sena’s heartbeat that thundered in her ears. Floating dust motes glittered in the air, a quiet counterpoint to the stars circling far above their heads, above the cathedral’s transparent dome, beyond even the outer shields. Sena had to suppress a likely very unseemly grin when a few specks of dust seemingly formed the constellation of the Horned Fox, then the Equinox Warrior, then the Dancing Snake – dancing right above the altar, in fact, how very fitting when considering the spell that had just been crafted –, before absurdly shifting to a one-eared fleeing rabbit and scattering entirely unnoticed by anyone else. 

Of all the emotions she had expected to experience at her own wedding, the one she could not have predicted at all, neither with the cards she had begun to suspect were more entertainment than serious prediction nor with what her bride usually called ‘common sense’, nor even with stochastic simulations on the station’s largest computing cluster – that one, not for the first time, had proven particularly useless in matters of the heart – was boredom. It came as a surprise to her, really, when she had been so looking forward to this day. 

It was not that she was not excited about finally getting to marry Zefita. She had been anticipating the date, counting the days, fussing over her dress that in the dim starlight no one would be able to see clearly, imagining the ceremony countless times, the vows of eternal love and the sacred drums calling that love into life... It would be glorious, her family had told her, and Sena the most beautiful bride of all cycles. Of course, they had failed to mention the hours of sermons she would have to endure before even seeing a glimpse of Zefita on the far end of the cathedral. 

Zefita looked nervous, Sena thought. Even from afar she could see the characteristic impatience, the fidgeting, the only barely suppressed urge to just run across the aisle and speed things up... Sena was smiling genuinely now. She supposed no one could fault her for that, not even her strictest aunts: surely, a lady was allowed to smile at her wedding. She held her breath. At the priest’s slight nod, the stars’ silence was broken. Somewhere in a shadowy corner, unseen, a drum started beating, and incongruously, it was the drum from Sena’s dreams.

Sena’s first steps were still dignified, her head held high, her posture perfect, as was appropriate for a scion of her house, one of the old families that had been the first ones to choose their home between the stars. She would make them proud tonight. But as always, these thoughts immediately fled her head when she was looking at her bride. Was the drum speeding up? It surely sounded like that to her – and if that was an excuse to walk just a little bit faster, then so be it... Nothing and no one but Zefita could matter right now. Zefita of the fiery red hair that always reminded her of the old fairy tales of stars so fast that no one could catch them; Zefita of the proud stare and inviting grin; Zefita of the sweet poems and songs and the surprising understanding of mathematical matters even when Sena knew her heart was not as devoted to that particular art as hers... Zefita, who was now sprinting towards her.

The very moment Sena felt her bride’s hands on her skin, she finally fully understood the ritual’s purpose. Oh, she had known, but that was just knowledge in her head, and she knew there were other kinds of knowledge just as, or even more important: the knowledge of the soul, the knowledge of her body, the ultimate truth beyond all that... And if she had known, truly known, she would have followed the magic more closely, would never have been lulled by the priest’s monotonous noise... There was truth in mathematics, after all, and this was one she understood very well. “All form is one”, she whispered quietly into Zefita’s ear. She felt it under her skin, in her blood, in the tingling between her shoulder blades that soon turned into a sharp pain... Yes, this was knowledge of a different kind.

Laughing now, Zefita tightened the embrace. “Only you would quote Arcane Topology to me in this kind of moment”, she whispered back, louder, uncaring that guests in the first row might overhear. She moved her hand to the small of Sena’s back, stroked her gently, skillfully, making the pain recede just when it had threatened to become unbearable. And before Sena had a chance to feel awkward, she quickly added “I would not have it any other way. You’re lovely. Oh, your wings are lovely, too.” 

And there they were, ripping Sena’s expensive dress to shreds and sending a few stray pearls rolling across the aisle in a pattern she could probably have modelled with some very simple but beautiful equations had she not been preoccupied with other matters. Wings! What did decorum matter, after all, when you could have wings? Her dress merely a forgotten rag on the floor now, her own feathers embracing her instead, Sena laughed delightedly. She saw the same transformation mirrored by her bride, saw Zefita’s wings sprouting from her back, as red as her hair... 

They were circling now with the pattern of their feet on the cathedral’s mirroring floor creating another spell entirely, stepping on the reflections of stars still distant, moving as fast as the now frenzied beating of the drum, dancing in interwoven spirals, touching, letting go, touching again, floating – Sena didn’t even consciously notice the moment in which her feet left the ground without touching back down. She just noted absentmindedly that all the important wedding guests she had not invited were suddenly small dots below her, saw that the cathedral’s ceiling which she always had assumed to be crystal somehow was opening for them, making a way for them into space, true space, not the settlers’ small and constrained version of interstellar freedom. And without having to say a word, she knew they would do the unthinkable, break the second barrier as well – surely it was striving for truth, too? – and be even closer to the stars tonight. Above them in the sky the Dancing Snake beckoned.


End file.
